


An Unexpected Christmas Present

by PatchworkSam



Category: Supernatural
Genre: BSGC Secret Santa 2015, Christmas, Gen, Merry Christmas!, Sam and Dogs, Sam gets a rescue dog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 04:18:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5525096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PatchworkSam/pseuds/PatchworkSam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam didn’t do Christmas. He’d never liked it; too many painful memories.<br/>So he really hadn’t meant to get himself a Christmas present.<br/>And definitely not one that barked and wagged its tail at him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Unexpected Christmas Present

**Author's Note:**

> This is written on the premise that Sam got out of the Cage before Christmas. (Which, let's be honest, that's what we're all hoping for)

Sam had just gone out to run some errands on the morning of Christmas Eve. He’d rather have stayed in and avoided all the festivity and bustle of last-minute shoppers, but they were getting low on food in the bunker… and maybe, just maybe, Sam wanted to get a turkey to surprise Dean with tomorrow. He might hate Christmas, but Dean didn’t.

He’d just left the store with paper bags under each arm, and was about to head back home when he happened to see the animal shelter across the street. Well… he didn’t have to get home just yet, and it was cold enough outside that the food wouldn’t spoil in the car…

He’d just go in and take a quick peek at the dogs. No harm in that.

A bell jingled merrily as he pushed open the door. The warmth of the air that rushed to greet him matched the smile of the young woman at the counter. She was wearing a Santa hat, he noted.

“Hello, how can I help you today?” she asked cheerily.

“Oh, thanks, uh, I’m just looking.”

“Sure! Anything in particular you want to see?”

“Well, uh,” he scratched the back of his head. “You got dogs around here?” _Stupid question, of course they did._

“Right over here; follow me.” She led the way around a corner and through a door into a hall lined with kennels. As soon as the door opened, a cacophony of canine voices filled the air.

“Thanks. I’ll just look around for a little bit, if that’s alright.”

“No problem, just let me know if you need anything else.” She—Sarah, her nametag said—flashed a bright smile and disappeared.

Sam meandered down the rows of kennels, patting furry snouts that pushed through the bars to sniff at him. He reached out to scratch a friendly lab behind the ears, crouched down to give a fluffy little dog a belly rub, and so on until he reached an empty kennel with no curious nose or lolling tongue behind the gate. No, wait—not empty. At the far end of the kennel a big gray dog cowered against the back wall. Sam knelt on the ground before the gate and peered through the bars.

“Hey, buddy,” he murmured. “Here boy, it’s okay.” The dog didn’t move, just stared at him through wide, worried eyes.

Sam looked up at the sign on the gate. “Ross. Male. American Pit Bull,” it read. He looked back at the dog. His smooth, silvery fur was interrupted by several lighter colored scars, and one ear bore an irregular notch in it.

“Poor guy.” Sam’s brow furrowed. “What happened to you?” _Some asshole probably used him in dogfights_ , he thought. “Hey Ross, buddy, it’s okay,” he assured softly. “You’re safe, bud. It’s okay.”

Ross whined softly at him, but still didn’t move.

Sam shifted cautiously so as not to startle the dog, settling himself more comfortably on the floor. He leaned against the gate and began talking quietly to the dog again.

“You’re gonna be okay, buddy. You’ve been through a lot, I know, but it’s gonna be okay.” He paused. “I guess this isn’t a great holiday for you either, huh? I know a thing or two about spending Christmas without a home…not real fun, is it?” Sam shrugged, sighed absently. “Still, things could be worse. For both of us. At least you’re safe here, and I’m not in…” His sentence trailed off abruptly. “Well anyway, I’m safe now, too.” He smiled a little at Ross, who had inched just a tiny bit closer while he was talking.

“Yeah, that’s it. That’s a good boy. You’re safe now,” he repeated.

Sam didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there, but Ross had gradually moved almost to the gate when the door to the hall opened. Startled, the dog scurried back to his corner, and Sam looked up to see Sarah peeking in.

“You doing okay here still?” she inquired.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he replied quickly. “Um, any chance I could go in there to see him?” he asked, indicating Ross’ kennel.

She pursed her lips. “I suppose. He’s really shy though, poor thing. I’m not sure how he’ll react if you go in there. Just move slowly and probably don’t try to pet him or anything.”

He smiled a little and nodded. “Got it, thanks.”

She fished out a key and unlocked the gate, opening it carefully for Sam to slip through.

He shuddered as he heard the lock seal the iron bars behind him. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. _You’re fine, it’s just a dog kennel. You can get out whenever you want. You’re safe._

“You okay?” Sarah’s voice drifted cautiously through the gate.

“Yep, fine. Just a little claustrophobic, maybe.” He managed a small chuckle.

“Okay, well, here’s some treats you can give him if you want. Maybe try leaving them on the ground in front of you and see if he’ll come closer to get them. I’ll be right around here if you need me.” She handed him a few biscuits from her apron pocket.

“Thanks.” He knelt down on the floor again, just inside the gate. He held a treat out in front of him. “Hey, here buddy. I’m just gonna leave this here, okay?” He set it down gently a few feet in front of him. “There we go.”

Ross’ nose twitched, and he eyed the treat curiously.

“It’s okay, take your time,” Sam reassured him.

He sat back and waited, watching the dog and listening to the faint sound of Sarah’s broom brushing the floor around the other kennels. Eventually Ross got up the courage to begin creeping forward again, eyes fixed on the treat, but glancing up at Sam cautiously from time to time.

“Good boy, good boy Ross,” Sam whispered gently as the dog snapped up the biscuit. He laid down another one, a little closer than the first. Again, the dog crept towards it, relaxing a little more as he swallowed down the second treat and Sam continued praising him quietly.

By the time the fourth treat had been consumed, Ross was sitting right next to Sam and sniffing the fifth, which he held in his palm. He plucked it up and gave the hand a tentative lick afterwards. He flinched a little, but didn’t run as Sam reached up to stroke his chest lightly with his fingertips.

“Good boy, Ross, good boy,” Sam repeated soothingly.

He sat there for a while, just focused on petting the dog, mind blissfully blank of anything else.

Eventually Sarah came back, moving carefully towards the kennel. “Just so you know, you’ve been in there about an hour. Did you want to stay longer?”

“Oh, god, sorry! Dammit, uh, what time is it?” Sam babbled, flustered.

“It’s nearing noon. It’s okay, you’re welcome to stay if you want,” she added.

“Thanks, um, I should probably get going though.” He stood up slowly. Ross backed away a bit, looking concerned. Sam looked down at him. “It’s okay buddy, it’s okay. Uh…” He trailed off, looking around, then back at the dog. Suddenly he wasn’t sure what to do. He should just leave; he came here to visit dogs, and that’s what he did. And now he should go. And yet…

“Isn’t there anyone interested in adopting him?” he asked.

Sarah shook her head sadly. “No. No one wants a dog they can’t even get near enough to pet.” She smiled a little at Sam. “You’re the first one to spend time with him and get close to him.”

_Well, damn it._ That really didn’t make it easier for him to leave, did it?

“How long has he been here?”

“About three months.”

“And he just… stays here, for however long it takes to find someone who wants him?”

“Yeah, as long as it takes,” she nodded. “Sometimes we’ll transfer animals to another location after a while, see if it improves their chances.”

Sam nodded. Moving around from place to place, no permanent home… that was a life he was all too familiar with, and not one he’d wish on any person or animal. Especially not this dog who’d already been through so much.

“I’ll take him,” Sam found himself saying.

The next thing he knew, he was filling out paperwork, picking out supplies, and laying down cash for the adoption fee, before carefully leading his new friend out the door.

It was a bit of a struggle to get the nervous dog outside and into the car. Sam ended up carrying him most of the way and depositing him on the back seat. He cringed, thinking of the fit Dean was going to have about a dog in the car. He hoped the promise of a big turkey dinner would be enough to appease him.

Sam kept up a steady, one-sided conversation during the ride back to the bunker. Ross stayed calm for the most part, lying with his head on his paws. He whined periodically, eyes darting about uncertainly.

As luck would have it, getting him out of the car was much easier than getting him in. Sam gave him a moment to do his business outside before steering him towards the door.

Ross entered cautiously behind Sam, his nose vigorously sniffing his new surroundings. Sam steeled himself as he heard Dean come hurrying down the hall.

“Sam, where have you— _what the hell_ , Sam!” Dean came to a sudden halt, staring at the dog, who quickly ducked behind Sam at Dean’s shouting.

“Dean, be quiet, you’re scaring him!” Sam hissed. Dean didn’t seem to hear.

“A dog, Sam? Really? Did you hit another one on the road or something? You know what, I don’t care where you found him, we’re not keeping him, okay? No dogs in the bunker. And no dogs in my car! What’ve I told you, Sam? No dogs in the car, and there you go picking one up again! He’s going back wherever he came from, but not in my—”

“Dean.” Sam fixed him with the coldest bitchface he could muster. “Shut. Up.”

Dean shut up.

“I’m keeping him, Dean. You wanted me to feel at home here, didn’t you? Well, this is my home too. You don’t make all the rules around here. It’s my home just as much as it is yours, and I’m keeping the dog.”

Dean opened his mouth to say something, but nothing managed to come out. He just raised his eyebrows defiantly and left the room with a displeased grunt.

Sam bent down to pat Ross reassuringly. “Sorry about that, buddy. It’ll be okay; he’ll get used to you.”

As it turned out, Dean’s anger subsided to distracted grumbling when Sam brought the large turkey in from the car.

“Well Sammy, I’m glad to see you didn’t forget the _real_ important things in life,” he exclaimed. “There’d better be pie to go with this, too,” he added.

Sam sighed. “I didn’t forget the pie, Dean.”

Sam spent most of the evening in the kitchen preparing the turkey to be cooked. Ross sat a short distance away, watching and drooling. And if one or two pieces of meat accidentally fell on the floor, Sam had _nothing_ to do with it. Absolutely not.

Eventually Dean came in, which sent Ross scurrying under the table.

“Oh, come on, that’s no way to do it,” he said, taking Sam’s place at the counter. “Watch and learn, little brother. I’m a food _aficionado_ ,” he declared with a grin.

Sam snorted. “Okay, whatever,” he said, shaking his head. He went to retrieve Ross from under the table and led him out of the kitchen.

The dog stuck close by Sam as he moved about the bunker. He set up the food and water bowls in his room and laid out a couple toys he’d bought. He folded up some blankets and placed them on the floor near his bed.

“What do you think, buddy?”

Ross still seemed unsure.

“Yeah, I get it. New place, new people, it’s stressful. It’s okay. It’ll feel like home eventually, even if it takes a while,” he said, rubbing the dog’s ears affectionately.

With nothing more to do, Sam went to brush his teeth and change into pajamas. Apparently Ross found these activities very interesting, as he continued to follow Sam around and study his every move.

He got Ross settled on his blanket pile and then flopped onto his own bed. He lay there in the dark, listening to his own breathing, accompanied by the dog’s panting. Sleep was never easy for him, but eventually he drifted off…

_Cold. He was freezing cold. He was surrounded by angry flames, but he felt icy fingers against his skin, chilling him to his bones. A familiar voice filled his mind. “Actually, I run cold.” Laughter. “Wanna share, bunk buddy?” More laughter. Sam shuddered, from the cold or from terror, he didn’t know. What did it matter? He was trapped here, with the cold, the fear, the freezing cold fear… “No. No. Please, no,” he heard his own voice pleading again and again and—_

Something nudged him. He realized he was sweating, but he pulled the covers around himself anyway. He couldn’t stop shaking. He felt wetness around his eyes.

The something nudged him again. He looked down to see a gray shape nestled beside him on the bed, pushing its snout against his arm and whining.

“Hey, buddy,” Sam said weakly. He reached out and draped an arm over the dog and buried his face in the short fur. He focused on the dog’s warm, steady presence and tried to calm his breathing. He wasn’t sure how long he lay there until he stopped shaking. He looked up and noticed the barest hint of dawn illuminating the horizon outside his window. Ross licked his face and he grinned.

“Merry Christmas, buddy.”


End file.
